


Rewritten

by ziisskoo



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Bella curses, F/M, Fighting, Vampires, Werewolves, bella actually has a life and personality, bella doesn't take edward’s shit, i made bella into a bisexual goth with anger issues, like a lot, twilight - rewritten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29658765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziisskoo/pseuds/ziisskoo
Summary: Bella moves to Forks, Washington to live with her father for the remaining of her high school years. But maybe she'll want to stay longer than she originally thought.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original story is by Stephanie Meyer. I am no way insulting the original author or trying to claim it as mine. I am only rewriting the story for fun. This is only meant for entertainment purposes. 
> 
> With that out of the way, I'm going to clear up a few things: 
> 
> This story takes please in current times (2018. I'm no way in hell writing this set in 2020 or 2021). 
> 
> So this means that Edward is now 115 (which 1. is even weirder but it is was it is, and 2. I don't know if I did the math right but I always failed math class so.) And it also means that Bella was born in 2001, and that means that she's Gen Z (just thought I'd say that.)
> 
> Bella also has some personality changes. She more outspoken, isn't afraid of speaking her mind, she's more angry and isn't afraid to fight someone if provoked. Bella is more athletic, not I'm on a sports team, but if I try enough I'll do good enough. 
> 
> I might use some lines from the original story. (obviously) I'll try to stick as close to the storyline as possible and to stay far away from current events and any main pop culture and to keep as close to the story line as I can. 
> 
> Also, if your homophobic or biphobic, please leave 
> 
> Enjoy :)

I can't believe that I got caught. Again. 

I wanted to leave Phoenix with a bang so I decided to break into the museum with Mari. It was going amazing, until we got caught by the security guard.

Both of us did not know how the police got there so quickly. Mari was able to run into the woods after she climbed over the fence since she was the quickest out of the two of us. I wasn't so lucky. So that's how I ended up where I am now: in a holding cell. 

I'm stuck with another girl that looks to be around my age and a man who looks like he has a drug problem. He won't stop staring at me. I'm tempted to yell at him for him to stop looking at me. I'm about to when a familiar voice calls out my full name. 

"Isabella Swan!" My mother calls out from the other side of the bars. 

"Mom! Oh thank god." I gets up from the bench and wrap my hands around the bars. "Did you bail me out? My flight leaves early tomorrow remember?" 

To my surprise, she looks mad. Her happy eyes are full of anger and it makes me feel regretful for my actions for the first time. 

Every single time my mother picks me up from the police station, she looks disappointed rather than angry. Afterwards, she grounds me for a month. That won't be possible anymore since I'm moving to Forks to live with my father. It surprised my mother. I've never hid my hatred for the small town. 

When she got remarried, I made it my goal to keep my mother happy and by doing that, I decided that it'll be better to live with my father, Charlie, who's the chief of the police department so I doubt I'll try to not get arrested while living in the small town. Her and Phil are moving to Florida anyway. 

I've always been the responsible one out of our mother and daughter duo, but I started acting out when she started dating Phil. It's always been just her and me and now, I have to share her life with the man. I don't hate him, but I also don't like him. He's just... Phil. 

I love seeing my mother with a smile on her face and I'm afraid if I stay any longer, I'll just ruin her happiness. I can change the way I am but what's the fun in that? 

Mom crosses her arms. "You are so lucky that you are going to go to your father's house." 

I hang her head. "I'm sorry, mom." 

"If you were sorry, then you would have stopped long ago." She looks at me with disappointment. She turns her head when the officer approaches them. 

"Do you want me to release her?" He asks. 

She looks back at me as if she's actually contemplating leaving her here overnight. I quickly catch on. "Mom, please don't leave me here." 

I can't imagine sleeping on the hard, disgusting benches where god knows who has done god knows what on them and who else might get thrown into the cell with me. 

Mom sighs and tells the officer to let me out. 

I get my things and we leave, trailing behind my pissed mother. 

What a great last memory she'll have of me. 

We climb into the car and it's completely silent until mom speaks up. "I called Mari's parents to let them know what happened." 

I bite my tongue so I don't say anything. Instead, I focus on putting my rings back on. 

"What on earth were you thinking? Breaking into a museum?" She asks. It's obvious that she's trying really hard to not raise her voice. She rarely does, so I really know I really fucked up this time. 

"I was thinking that I'm going to be living with the chief of police for the rest of my high school year." I respond after careful thinking, playing with the threads of my ripped jeans. 

The rest of the car ride is silent. 

I get out, and plan to head straight into my room. I don't even reach the stairs before Phil stops me.

"Bella! Are you okay?" He appears from the living room. I can hear a baseball game playing the background. "What on earth were you thinking? You know better than to be doing that."

I sharply turn to him. "Phil, let's get one thing straight. You aren't my father, and with you not being my father, you loose the damn privilege of scolding me like a fucking child." 

I don't know where that came from. It might've been from the anger of getting caught, or the anger of deciding to move to Forks, or the anger of my mother deciding to marry this mediocre baseball player and then deciding to move across the country with him. 

"Isabella!" Mom yells from the hallway. "Do not talk to him like that. He was just worried about you." 

I roll my eyes. "Mom, if he really is worried about me, or cares about me, you two wouldn't be moving across the country." 

Without looking at Phil or another word from any of them, I go up to my room. I look at the pile of clothes I'm taking with her. 

Throughout the years of visiting my father for a month every year, I left some things over there. Mom offered to buy her some things to take with me but I refused. I'll buy the things I need in Forks. 

My phone rings with a video chat call from Mari. 

"I got fucking grounded, dude." She says when I answer the phone. 

"For how long?" 

"I don't know." Mari moves her hair from her face. "They just said I can't go out. The only places I could go to are to and from school and work." 

"Damn. That sucks," is the only thing I say. I start to put the rest of my clothes in my suitcases. 

"I bet if you weren't already going to your father's house, she would've put you on a plane." 

I laugh. "Yeah, she probably would have. She looked angry this time." 

"This time? The hell do you mean 'this time?' My mother would've beaten my ass by the time I got out of the police station." There's a door opening and closing on the other end, then the sound of crickets. 

"You wouldn't even be at a police station to begin with." I look at her through the phone. "Lucky bitch." 

Mari laughs. "I told you you should've been running with me at the track at school. You know, to be as fast as me." 

"Yeah, I should have listened to you." I admits. 

"But who am I kidding. No one could be as fast as me." Mari smirks, as she runs her hand through her shiny, black hair, full arrogance on display. 

"Shut up." I throw the last of my jeans into her suitcase and zips it up. 

Mari rolls her eyes. "You're just jealous. How much are you packing to go?" 

"Only two suitcases and my backpack. There's still some room in my smaller suitcase though, I don't have a lot of winter clothes." I answer. I should have really taken up my mother's offer to go shopping. 

"Damn. We should have gone shopping together." 

I laugh. "At least we almost got arrested together." I hear yelling in Spanish on the other end. "You gotta go?" 

"Yeah. I'll be there at the airport tomorrow. Well, I'll try to be there." 

"Girl, you know you aren't going to wake up that early in the morning. Not even for me." I say with mock disappointment. 

"Shut up. You know I'll miss you." 

"I'll miss you too. I'll call you when I get to Forks, okay?" 

"You better. Or I'm hopping on a plane myself and beating your ass." There's yelling again. "Shit, I really gotta go now." 

"Bye." And Mari hangs up. 

I put her suitcases against the wall facing my bed and stares at them. Am I really going to live in Forks? Why am I going to? I don't even know myself. Maybe I'll tell my mother that I changed my mind. Is it too late for me to change my mind now? Maybe- 

There's knocking on my door and mom pokes her head in. "Can I come in?" 

I kick her legs up onto my bed. "Sure." 

She looks nervous, with her eyes avoiding me and looking all over the room, which is very odd to see. It's rare that I ever sees my mother nervous. 

"Mom, are you okay?" I ask, seeing her nervous makes me nervous. 

"I don't know how to ask this, but I'm going to anyway." She takes a deep breath. "Are you moving to Forks because you don't want to move with me and Phil?" 

The question shocks me. Why would she ever think that her daughter wouldn't want to live with her? I think about the way I've been acting these past couple of months, and it makes sense for her to be thinking this type of way. It has been completely out of character. Of course I'll get into the usual trouble with my friends, but that's just teenagers being teenagers.

"No, Mom. Why would you think that?" I ask. I made my mother sad. 

I should've just stayed in that cell. 

It's better than seeing her sad. 

"It's just been the way you've been acting lately." She explains. "You have always been responsible, and now you would always end up in a holding cell." 

"Mom, the only reason I've been acting this way is because I'm going to be living with Chief Swan. So I just decided I'll do some things on my bucket list before I go." I look over to the photos on my nightstand. They're photos from all the time I spent the summers with dad. "Besides, I'd like to finally have a relationship with my father." 

She looks at me uncertain. "Are you sure that's it?" 

"Mom." I move to wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug. It feels nice to finally hug her again after a while. "I would love to live with you, but it's time to go be with my father for a while." 

I leave out the other reason why I'm leaving, because then I'll never be able to leave.

***

"Bella," Mom asks for the last thousand times on the way to the airport. We're in the terminal and I'm is about it to get on. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

"Yes, Mom. I do." Deep down, I know I'm lying. I worry about her, but I know she's going to be okay with Phil. She's happy with him, I remind myself. "I'll call you when I land." 

Mom pulls me into a hug and we stay there for a moment. The last call to board the plane can be heard through the speakers. "I have to go." 

She cups my face. "Be safe and stay out of trouble." 

"Will do, Mom. I love you." 

"I love you too." 

It was a four flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane to Port Angeles, then an hour drive to Forks. I wasn't worried about the drive with my father, I just didn't like the fact that the drive was in a police cruiser. At least I would be in the front seat and not in handcuffs in the back. 

I'm is happy that dad is pleased about me coming to permanently live with him. He had even registered me for school and is going to help me get a car. 

"Dad!" I squeal when I see him. I run into his arms. I'm surprised at how excited I am to see him. I usually just give him a hug and hello and that's it. 

"Hello Bells." He says with a smile. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?"

"Of course I haven't changed much, you saw me last year. And mom's doing fine." We reach the police cruiser and dad takes my bags and places them in the trunk. It fits easily. "How are you? Anything new?"

"No, not really. Everything is the same around here." 

I look out into the traffic. "Mmm." 

"I found a car for you." 

I turn to him. "You didn't have to do that." 

"Don't worry. It's more of a homecoming gift, really." Dad walks over to the drivers side and gets in.

"Well when could we go see it?" I ask skeptically as I glide into the passenger seat. Why did he say that it's a homecoming gift as if he already brought it? 

The last thing I want is a new car. 

"Well, I kind of already brought it for you." 

"You what?" He cringes. "You didn't have to do that. I was going to buy a car for myself." 

"Like I said, it's a homecoming gift for you." 

"Well, what year is it?" I say after a pause. 

"It's a 2014 Ford. I bought it off one of Billie Black's friends. He bought a new car for her daughter's birthday and was selling it." 

"For how much?" From the change of his expression, this was a question he hoped I wouldn't ask. 

"Around five grand." He says as he looks at me from the corner of his eyes. 

"Dad!" Jesus fucking Christ. I was already looking at cars for cheaper back in Phoenix. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can." 

"There's no need for that Bella. It's called a gift for a reason." 

"But-"

"No buts Bella. A gift it a gift." He says in a tone that implies that this topic is over. 

"I'm still going to pay you back," I mumble under my breath. I realize that I have no idea who Billie Black is. "Who is Billie Black exactly?" 

"You don't remember?" Charlie asks. When I shake my head, he continues. "He used to go fishing with us during the summer."

Well that explains why I don't remember him. I do a good job at blocking out painful memories from my mind. 

"I just want you to be happy here, Bells." He looks straight ahead as he says it. He isn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I look straight ahead when I respond. 

"I really appreciate it, Dad. Thank you." 

"Well, now, your welcome," he mumbles, clearly embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments about the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much the entire conversation. 

I text my mother and then Mari. Of course my best friend asks if there is anyone cute out here. I roll my eyes and responds with, I barely got into the car, which resulted in playful banter for the rest of the car ride. 

Eventually we made it to dad's house. He still lives in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had— the early ones. 

There, parked in the street in front of the house that never changed was my new — well, new to my — car. It's a white Ford Focus. 

"Wow, dad. I love it! Thanks!" She thanks God that she wouldn't be faced with the choice of walking two miles or to be driven in a police cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," He says, embarrassed again. 

It took one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faces out to the front yard. The room is familiar to me; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window. 

I make a mental note to buy black ones. I set my bag down at the foot of my bed. Nothing in the room has changed expect the crib has been replaced with a bed and desk added in a corner of the room. I sit on it and looks towards the ceiling, chewing on my nails causing the black paint to chip. 

After a while of staring and thinking of absolutely nothing, I sit up and start to unpack. I finish by by the time it starts to get dark so I go downstairs. Maybe I have enough time to take a quick trip to the store and get the things I need. "Hey dad! Where are the keys to the car." 

I pass by school year photos of me hanging up on the wall, all aging backwards from the direction I was walking of. There are baby photos of me, along with a photo of my parents wedding and a photo after my birth taken by a helpful nurse. I'll have to ask him to take those down for her stay. It's kind of embarrassing how he's never gotten over my mother.

I find him in the living room with a beer in his hand, watching a game of football. What's up with men and these boring ass games? "They're hanging by my gun belt. What do you need them for?" 

"I was wondering if I could go to the store real quick to get some things I need." 

"Ok. You need some money?" He asks.

"Nah, I'm good. I have my own money but thank you." I've had a couple of jobs and tutoring jigs and saved enough money from it. It'll cover me until I get a job here. 

I go over to where his gun belt is and take off the take the keys of the rack. I put my shoes on and jacket and I'm on my way. I walk outside, and it's fucking raining. 

"Oh for god sakes," I groan. I debate with myself if I should wait until tomorrow or go now. I decide I should go now because this is going to be my new norm.

Yay. 

I get into my car and it smells like lavender and cleaning spray. It runs smoothly. I use my phone's GPS to the nearest store. I get what I need and stop by McDonald's for me and dad. 

I get back home in less than forty minutes. Dad is still in the same spot when I enter the living room. "I got is some McDonald's."

He reaches over for the bag and I sit as he passes me the food. We turn on a movie, falling into a comfortable silence and talking at times. At ten, I say my goodnight. 

The tiredness doesn't hit me until I get into bed. It was so tiring today that I forgot I'm starting at a new school tomorrow. Well, shit. Forks High School population is approximately three hundred and fifty-seven- well now fifty-eight- students. These people grew up together and so did their parents and grandparents. 

I wonder what they'll think of me. I'm not exactly homecoming queen material. I'm not the popular student, not the cheerleader, and not the class president. If you'd ask what people describe me as back home, they'll probably say the quiet popular one, or the one with the temper or all three. I've never really cared for what people thought of me, so why am I caring now? I groan and get under the covers. As soon as my head hits my pillow, I fall asleep. 

***

I unsurprisingly wake up late. I shoot up from bed and throw the covers off of me. "Shit shit shit." I open up my drawers and throw on the first thing I see. The last thing I want to be is late for my first day at a new school. 

I run down the stairs with my shoes in my hand and my bag in the other. Dad is no where to be found. I look at out the window and the cruiser is gone. "Thanks a lot, dad." I mutter. 

I grab a handful of granola bars and a water bottle, stuffing them into my bag as I try to put my shoes and jacket on at once. Somehow I make it out the door on time. The horrible decision to wear ripped jeans hits me when I do open the door but I have no time to change. I'll just have to deal with it. 

I'll really have to go shopping for clothes. It's too god damn cold. I get the spare house key that's hidden under the eave by the door. It's drizzling, but not enough to soak me immediately. Inside the car it's nice and dry. I turn up the heater as soon as I turn on the car and wait a little for it to warm up. 

Mari calls me when I'm about to drive and I pick up, putting it on speaker. "Hey!" Mari greets.

"Morning." I pull out from the driveway and I start driving towards the school. Fortunately, I've been here enough to know the way. "I woke up late." 

Mari laughs. "I thought you'd wake up on time for once."

"Yeah... well obviously that won't happen." I open up a bar and take a bite. "The food here better be good. I'm starving." 

"When is food in American schools ever good." I hear a shuffle of papers on the other end.

"True. Where are you right now?"

"In my car. I decided to skip third period." She answers. 

"Ah, ok." I find the school easily; it's like most places here, just off the highway. I almost passed it because there is no indication of it being a school expect a sign. "My dumbass wore ripped jeans in forty degree whether." I pull into the parking lot in front of the maroon colored which states is the front office. The parking lot is almost full of cars, which probably means that this area is off limits for students. 

"Are those the jeans with the rip right under your ass?" She stifles a laugh.

"Pretty sure they are. I'm just praying I don't get dress coded." 

She mockingly gasps. "You're the chief's daughter. Come on now. You're supposed to be the poster child."

"When the fuck have I ever been a poster child?" 

She laughs. "That's the problem. You never have been." 

"You know what, fuck you. You're just jealous that I'm sexier than you." 

She laughs harder. "Aw shit, I gotta go."

"Yeah, me too." I sigh." "Talk to you later?" 

"Yep. Talk to you later. Bye." 

"Bye." I hang up the phone and stare at the front office. I suddenly don't want to get out the car but then I'll definitely be late. I get out the car and walk to the office.

Inside, it's more warm and brightly lit than I thought it would be. The office is small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards all over the walls, a big clock ticking loudly in the silence. The room was cut in half, by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets that are filled with papers that look in need of organizing and brightly colored flyers taped to the front. There are three desks behind the counter, and one is manned by a large-red haired women.

She looks up from the computer. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm Bella Swan." I place my thumbs in between the straps of my bookbag and my shoulder. I see immediate awareness lights her eyes, along with a flash of confusion. I know I don't look like what a chief's daughter is supposed to look like. All dyed air, with rings and fishnets and all dressed down in black. I look like the stereotypical people my father arrests. 

"Of course." She digs through a pile of papers until she finds what she is looking for. She sets down two pieces of paper on the counter in front of me. "Here is your schedule and the map of the school. There is your account information on top for the software we use. There you can find your schedule as well as your grades and assignments. You can find it on the school website, along with the map."

She highlights my account information and goes through my classes and the best routes to get to them. She shows me a room where I can get my school computer at. "You can just tell the teacher your name and show them this and they'll get you it, okay?"

I just nod at her and collect the papers, along with the slips she gave me for the teachers to sign. "Thank you." I'll download just the app on my phone and I could see the map from there. It's better than having the map stuck in front my nose. I get back into my car and download it as I start drive towards the student parking. I get out of the car, slinging my bag over the shoulder and pull my bucket hat down over my eyes. I don't have the energy to deal with others right now. 

Students who are walking towards their buildings look at me in interest. I'm definitely not someone they've seen around someone before. I sigh and walk to the building with a black "2" painted on a white square. The room the secretary directed me to is easy to spot with a small plaque right next to the entrance stating the room number and what the room is. 

I open the room and I spot a student sitting behind the desk, reading a book. She tells me that the teacher is running late and that he'll be here shortly. 

I log into my school account as I wait and sit in one of the plastic chairs. 

A tall, balling man comes walking in the door with a coffee in hand. "Ah, there's the new student." He sits down his coffee on his desk. "We've all been waiting for you. Isabella Swan is it?" 

I stop my from rolling my eyes. Of course people were waiting for my arrival, no doubt that dad was telling it to anyone who was willing to listen. Daughter of the chief's flight ex-wife, has come while home. 

I don't smile when I answer him. "It's Bella." 

He nods. "Well, alright. I'm Mr. John. I assume you're here for a computer." 

"Yeah, I am." Geez, why else would I be here for?

After he gives me my computer and runs me down on how to use for class, he sends me on my way. There's a crowd of students heading to the their classrooms and they all turn to me with curious eyes. I meet their stares with my own and they all look away. 

Once I get around the cafeteria, I spot building three. I follow two people with unisex coats through the classroom door. It's small. The two people in front of me take off their coats and hang them up in hooks. It reminds me of what I used to do in kindergarten. I stifle my laughter. 

I take my slip to the teacher. He's also a tall, balding man whose desk has a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawks when he sees me name on it and I sigh in annoyance. He signs it quickly then sends me to a desk in a the back without introducing me. I feel eyes on me as I sit down and pull out the list of books we'll be reading in class for this semester. I wonder if mom would agree to send me all of old assignments or would she consider that cheating. Maybe I can get Mari to send me her essay's if mom says no. 

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as oil slick leaned across the aisle towards me. "You're Isabella Swan aren't you?" He asks with a smile. I look at him with a dead stare and it disappears. 

I've never really liked my non-approachable appearance but right now I do. No one has come up to me until now. 

"It's Bella." I say after a moment and everyone within a three-seat radius turns to us. 

He smiles again, more hesitantly this time. "Where's your next class?" He seems like the overly-helpful, chess club type. 

I check my phone. "Mmm, Government with Jefferson, in building six." I chuckle at the hilarious irony. 

"I'm heading towards building four, I could should you the way..." Yeah, definitely the overly-helpful, chess club type. 

I sigh and stand up, stuffing my phone in my back pocket. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." There's no where to look without meeting curious eyes. 

"I'm Eric," He adds.

We get our coats and headed out into the rain, which has picked up harder. I swear the people behind us are close enough to eavesdrop on us. 

"This is very different than Phoenix, huh?" He asks.

"Yeah." 

"It doesn't rain much over there?"

I twist my rings around my fingers. "Three or four times a year." 

"Wow. How is it over there?" He wonders.

"Sunny and hot." 

"Ah." He studies my face apprehensively. 

I touch my face. "What? Is my lipstick smeared or something?"

Red tints his face and he swiftly looks down. "Oh, no." 

We walk back around the cafeteria, to the south building next to the gym. Eric walks me to the door, although it's clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he says as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some classes together." He sounds hopeful." 

"Yeah, maybe." No, I don't. I enter the building and into the room.

The day goes on in the same fashion. My trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would've hates anyway because of the subject he taught, is the only that made me introduce myself. I stood there, stated where I was from and my name. After two more classes, I started to recognize the faces sitting in the classrooms. There were some braver than others that introduced themselves but I only gave the one word answers and soon they stopped talking to me.

There was this one girl sat next to me for both Trig and Spanish. She walks with me to lunch. She's tiny, with her wild curly hair made up the difference of our heights. I remember that Jessica is her name. 

We sit at a lunch table with many of her friends, and she introduces me to them. They seem impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. Eric waves at me from across the room and I nod in response. As seven curious strangers try to make conversation with me, that's when I see them. 

They are sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sit as possible in the long room.

There are five of them. They aren't talking, and they aren't eating, though they each have a tray of untouched food in front of them. They aren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They don't look anything alike. Out of the three boys, one is big — muscled like a serious weight lifter,  
with dark, curly hair. The other one is taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last one is lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He is more boyish than the others, who look like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls are opposites. The tall one is statuesque. She has a beautiful figure, the kind you see on the cover of a fashion magazine or on Instagram as a model, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair is golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl is pixielike, extremely thin, with small features. Her hair is a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

Yet, they're all exactly alike. Every one of them is chalky pale, the palest students living in this sunless town. They all have very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also have dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect; angular. 

But all this is not why I couldn't stop staring like so many are doing to me. I'm staring because their faces are so different, so similar, and inhumanly beautiful. They're faces you see on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. It was hard to decide whose the most gorgeous. Maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.

They were all looking away — away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything from what I could tell. As I watch, the small girl rises with her tray — unopened soda, unbitten apple — and walks away with a quick, graceful walk that belongs on a runway. I watch, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumps her tray and glides through the back door, faster than I thought it was possible for someone to walk. My eyes dart back to the others, who still sit unchanging.

I look over to Jessica. "Who are they?" I ask. 

As she looks up to see who I mean, the thinner, boyish one looks at her. He looks at Jessica for  
just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flicker to mine.

He looks away quickly, more quickly than I've seen anyone do. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest. It was as if she had called his name, and he looked up in involuntary response, already deciding not to answer. 

Jessica giggles, looking at the table for some reason. Are they those people are a popular but no one has the guts to approach them? "Those are the Cullens." 

"Oh." Is all I say. 

"You see the two blonde twins?" I nod is response. "That's Jasper and Rosalie Hale. The two brunettes on the right are Edward and Emmett Cullen. The girl who left is Alice Cullen. They were adopted by Dr. Cullen and his wife." She says this all under her breathe as if she's scared that the others might hear her. 

I glance at them, particularly at the one that looks to be the youngest out of the five. He's looking at his tray now, picking apart bread with long, slender fingers. Pianist hands. His mouth barley moves as he's talking quickly to his siblings. 

"They're attractive as hell." I say shamelessly. Because it's true. They're probably the most attractive people I've ever seen. 

"Yeah." She giggles again. "They're all like, together. Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice." I laugh out loud at that and I have to cover my mouth when Jessica's friends look at me. It quite hilarious that people don't consider it incest. Biologically it isn't, but legally, it is. None of my business though. 

"It's kind of strange, isn't it?" She asks. 

I shrug in response. "Which ones are the Cullens though? None of them seem related." 

"That's because they're a foster children. Dr. Cullen is very young, in his early thirties I'd say."

"They look a little old for foster children," I say. 

"They are now. The Hale twins are eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were, what? Eight, I think. She's their aunt or something like that." 

"It's honestly really nice of them to take in all of them when they were young." I say. My eyes flicker to them again. They continue to look at the walls and ceilings and not eat. What a strange family. 

"I guess so." she says reluctantly. She must not like the doctor and his wife. With the glances she's throwing at them, it must be jealousy. "Mrs. Cullen couldn't have any kids, though." 

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I must've heard something about them with my continues summer stays I've had. 

"No," Jessica reply's with a tone that say's I should've known this, even as a new person. "They moved down here from Alaska." 

A feel a bit of pity. As beautiful as they are, they clearly aren't accepted here. 

As I examine them, the one with reddish, brownish hair, looks at me again and meets my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. I don't look away, and we stay like this for a couple of seconds before he swiftly looks away. 

"Whose the one with reddish, brownish hair?" I ask. 

"He's Edward. He's gorgeous, obviously, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She says bitterly. Yep, definitely jealousy. 

I glanced at him again. His face is turned away and it looks like he's smiling. 

I chuckle. " Don't worry, I wasn't planning to." 

After a few minutes, the rest of the Cullen and Hale siblings get up from the table. They're all noticeably graceful, even the big, brawny one. It's honestly kinda unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

My table sits there for a little while longer, and we exchange socials before the bell rings. I collect my things as everyone leaves. 

Another girl from my table, Angela, has the same class as me and offered to walk with me. We walk in comfortable silence. She shy, and I'm not in the mood to talk. 

We enter the classroom and Angela goes to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I  
used back at Phoenix. She already has a neighbor though. All the tables are filled but one. And it's the empty seat right next to Edward Cullen with his unusual hair. 

Well, fuck. 

I walk down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed. Just as I pass, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face, it was hostile, furious. His eyes are coal black. 

This time, I'm the one who looks away, shocked. What the hell did I do to him? In my rush to move past him a quickly as I can, I stumble over a book in the walkway and have to catch myself on the edge of a table.

The girl sitting there giggled and I glare at her. "How about instead of fucking laughing at me, you pick your shit off the floor." I snarl. Half the class turns and looks at me and I'm two seconds away from snapping at them too. 

The girls eyes widened and she flushes. She stammers out an apology as she picks up her book. 

I make the rest of the way to Mr. Banner's desk. He signs my slip and hands me a book with no talk or mention about introductions. I could tell we're going to get along just then. But of course, he has no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room.

I sit down without looking at him, confused as to why he's even looking at me like that and what I did to him. I sneak a look at him. 

He'a leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. 

The hell is up with him? 

Whatever. I'll just ignore him. 

I sneak a couple of glances at him and continues to sit so still. It looked like he isn't breathing. What's wrong with him? Is this his normal behavior? I question my judgment on Jessica's bitterness today at lunch. Maybe she's not as resentful as I'd thought. Of course someone would be bitter towards someone this weird. 

I take one look at him and meet his glare, black eyes full of revulsion. 

Without thinking, I snap at him. "What the hell is your problem?" For what seems like the millionth time again, students within a three-seat radius turns to looks at us. 

He seems taken aback from my reaction and his glare wavers. 

"Are you not gonna answer me?" I ask. No response. "Stop being fucking weird and stop staring at me." I watch him for a moment longer, his glare still wavering, then turn my attention to the front of the classroom. 

Throughout the whole class, he never relaxes his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. He never relaxed that either. He has the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his pale skin. He isn't nearly as slim as he'd looked next to his huge brother.

The bell rings, and Edward Cullen is out of his seat. Fluidly, he rose his back to me. He's much taller than I'd thought he'd be. He's out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sit frozen in my seat, the annoyance fading into confusion. What in the actual hell did I do to him? I gather my things together, trying to block out the anger now that's threatening to bubble over. Me and anger don't mix very well. 

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked. I look up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. 

I glare at him, now officially not being in the mood to deal with people. "It's Bella." I say bluntly and short. 

His smile falter for a second. "I'm Mike." 

"What do you want Mike?" I say, irritation clear in my voice but apparently Mike here is tone deaf. 

"Do you need any help finding your next class?" 

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it." 

"That's my next class, too." He seems thrilled. 

For fucks sake. Can you people just leave me alone? 

We walked to class together; he's a chatterer. He supplies most of the conversation, which makes it easy for me not to take my anger out on him. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knows how I feel about the sun. It turns out he's also in my English class. He's the nicest person I've met today. 

But as we're entering the gym, he asks, "Did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

Ah, so that isn't his normal behavior and I wasn't the only one who noticed. I shrug. "I don't know what the hell I did to him, but he's weird as hell." 

Mike beams at what I said. He lingers by me instead of heading to the boys dressing room. "If I was lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

"Well, gee. Thanks." I say shortly with a smile. He's a nice guy and clearly admiring but it isn't enough to clear my irritation. 

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, finds me a uniform but doesn't make me dress for today's class. At home, only two years of RE. are required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks is literally my personal hell on Earth. 

It's not that I'm not good at any sports, I'm mediocre at best. I'd just rather be sitting somewhere and doing homework or reading or something other than exercise. 

Coach Clapp assigned me to one of the teams, which had Mike. He talked my ear off as we played. 

The bell finally rings and I make my way towards the office to return my paper work, eager to be in bed. The rain had calmed down, but the wind picked up. When I walk into the office, I almost walk right out. 

Edward Cullen is standing at the desk in front of me. I unfortunately recognize that tousled bronze hair. He doesn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stand on the side next to the entrance, waiting for the receptionist to be free. 

He's arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly pick up the topic of the argument. He's trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time — any other time.

I just can't believe that this is about me. It has to be about something else, something that happened  
before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation  
entirely. It's impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

All of a sudden I'm itching to hit something and I'm worried that it might be his head. 

The door opens again and the cold wind suddenly gusts through the room, rustling the papers on the  
desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who comes in merely stepped to the desk, places a note in one of the wire basket, and walks out again. But Cullen's back stiffens and he turned slowly to glare at me, his face was absurdly handsome, with piercing, hate-filled eyes. I clench my fist, my nails digging into my palm. 

He turns back to the receptionist. "Never mind, then," he says hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turns on his heel without another look towards me, and disappears out the door.

I stalk to the desk and hand over the slip of papers. 

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asks maternally.

"Fine," I lie, my voice sharp and short. She doesn't look convinced.

I get into my car, slamming the door. It was almost the last car in the parking lot. I sit inside for a while, staring out the window blankly at the green scenery. As soon as I get cold to need the heater. I turn on the car and pull away. 

I head back to dad's house, fighting the urge to break something the whole way there.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up, tired more than anything despite me sleeping a full nine hours. It's already been a day and Forks is already taking a toll on me. 

Great. 

Today was a little better. It wasn't raining yet so that was big win, until it started to pour in the middle of Trigonometry. How fitting. Mike sat with me in English, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him the entire time. People didn't look at me as much as yesterday which meant I glared less at them today. 

I walk with Jessica to lunch again. I'm actually kinda glad that I don't have to sit by myself. 

Mike intercepts us and steers us to his table. Jessica seems happy by the attention, and her friends quickly join us. 

When lunch is over, Mike — who also is in my Bio class — who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walks by my side to class. Too bad the only golden retrievers I like are in dog form. Mike follows me to me seat, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingers by my desk until the bell rings. Then he smiles at me and goes to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looks like I'm going to have to do something about Mike. I really don't have my experience with overly friendly boys, only overly clingy girls. 

As I listen to Banner drone on, I glance over to my left and find an empty seat. Huh. Cullen still isn't here. 

Throughout the class, I couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that I'm the reason he isn't here, which completely stupid. I couldn't have that much of an affect on someone could I? 

Whatever. If he doesn't like me, he doesn't like me. He was weird anyway. 

When the school day is finally done, I go over to my car and throw my things inside, relishing in the cool air. Gym was good, only because I completely demolished the other team in volleyball. 

As I wait for the car to heat up, I see the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It's the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I didn't notice their clothes before, I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I'm looking, it's obvious that they're all simply dressed, but in clothes that look like designer. With their good looks and the way they carry themselves, they could wear dishrags and pull it off.

I feel a hint of jealousy as they drive off, but I quickly wave it off. There's no point in feeling jealous of someone, especially where you don't compete. 

I pull away from the parking lot and drive to the grocery store. Yesterday I found out that dad doesn't know how to cook anything more than bacon and eggs so I put myself on cooking duty for my stay. I made a list and grabbed money from the jar that was labeled as FOOD MONEY. 

I make it back home by the time dad pulls up in the driveway. He helps me bring the groceries in and put them away. Before I start to cook, I change into a pair of sweats and an old shirt. I find dad sitting with a beer in hand and watching another game. 

"Are those replays or something?" I ask. 

"No." 

"Oh. Well, I'll be making dinner." I get what I need. I wrap potatoes in foil and stick them in the oven to bake, cover a steak in marinade and balance it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. After that, I bring my bag downstairs and start on my homework. Halfway through my Bio homework, my mom calls. 

"Hey, mom." 

"Bella!" She says excitedly. "How was your flight? Is it raining?" 

I laugh. "It's been raining every since I came here. It's like it'll never end. And my flight was nice." 

I hear shuffling on the other end. "Did you see my pink blouse? I'm almost done packing and I can't seem to find it." 

"Your blouse is at the dry cleaners. You were supposed to pick it up on Friday." 

I hear her slap her palm on her forehead. "Oh right!"  
I laugh. "How's school?" 

"School is great! I've met some friends." 

"That's amazing! I'm glad that you are settling down okay over there," she says cheerfully. 

"Yeah, it's okay over here." I change the conversation. I really don't want to talk about friends right now. "Dad bought me car.It's a Ford Focus. It's really nice." 

"Really? That's amazing!" 

"Yeah. But I wanna pay him back he's not letting me." I roll my eyes. "He bought it for me as a homecoming gift." 

"Well, that's understandable as to why he won't let you pay him back." She says. A pause. "Well I have to finish packing now." 

"Bye mom. Love you." 

"Love you too." Then I hang up. I finish my homework until the food is ready. I called dad in. 

"Smells good Bell." He says as he walks in. 

"Thanks." We eat in silence for a few minutes. It isn't uncomfortable. Neither of us is bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we're well suited for living together.

"So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?" he asks as he takes seconds.

"Yeah. There's this girl named Jessica. I have a couple of classes with her and I sit with here friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike. Everyone seems nice." With one outstanding exception.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid — nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

Of course he knows who I'm talking about, with a town this small and him being the police chief, he probably knows every persons history in Forks. 

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I ask hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They... the kids... are a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school." I say. I don't tell him how weird and hostile Edward acted with me. Charlie surprises me by looking angry.

"People in this town," he mutters. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any  
hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continues, getting louder. "We're lucky to have him — lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature — I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should —camping trips every other weekend... Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

I'm shocked. That's the longest speech I've heard him make. I have to keep myself from laughing in disbelief, so I backpedaled. "They seem nice enough to me." Except Edward and the rest of them act like I don't exist, which is a good thing. Who knows how weird the rest of them are. 

"I just noticed they keep to themselves. They're all very attractive," I add. 

"You should see the doctor," Charlie says, laughing. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the  
nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

That's no shocker. With kids that attractive, the parents must be too. 

We lapse back into silence as we finish eating. I cleared the table while he starts on the dishes. He goes back to the TV and after I finished cleaning, I go upstairs to unwillingly work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making. 

*** 

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to  
recognize almost all the students at school. 

Edward Cullen didn't come back to school, which is a huge win for me. I don't have to deal with him and keep my guard up as I'm trying to learn about DNA. 

Today's topic during lunch is about trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike is putting together. I'm invited, but I declined. Beaches should be hot and dry and I'm not about to spend an entire beach trip cold and freezing my ass off. 

I enter Bio and once again, he isn't there. For all I know, he dropped out. I laugh. Who drops out of school just because you don't like someone? As I said, weird. 

My first weekend in Forks passes by without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I hung out with the group. I drove to the library but it was so poorly stocked I didn't bother getting a card. I'll have to make a trip to Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. 

People greet me in the parking lot Monday morning. I don't know all their names, but I nod back. It's colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike takes his accustomed seat by my side. We have a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, but it's straightforward. I'm pretty sure I aced it. 

When we walk out of class, the air is full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting  
excitedly to each other. The wind bites at my cheeks and my nose. 

"Wow," Mike says. "It's snowing."

I look at the little cotton fluffs that are building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.

"Ew." Snow. There goes my good day.

He looks surprised. "Don't you like snow?"

"No. That means it's too cold for rain." Obviously. "Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes. You know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" he asks incredulously.

"Sure I have." I pause. "On TV."

Mike laugh. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacks into the back of his head. We both turn to see where it came from. I have my suspicions that it's Eric, who's walking away, his back toward us. In the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently has the same notion. He bends over and begins scraping together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I keep walking as I speak. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go  
inside."

He just nods, his eyes on Eric's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chatters excitedly about the snow; apparently it's the first snowfall of the new year. I keep my mouth shut. Sure, it'a drier than rain, until it melts in your socks.

I walk alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls are flying everywhere. I keep a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thinks that I'm hilarious, but something in my expression keeps her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.

Mike catches up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we get in line to buy food. 

Out of curiosity, I glance over at the Cullens table and I see five people sitting there. One of which is looking at me. I pause for a millisecond, but I won't him get to me. I'm not going to get mad or annoyed. I'm just to act like he doesn't exist. 

We sit at the table, talking about the La Push trip, once again. 

The rest of the lunch passes by rather quickly. Mike starts to plan an epic snowball fight in the parking lot after school. I stayed quiet because the last thing I want to become a target. 

I go to throw my trash away and pass my the Cullens table. They were laughing. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett all have their hair entirely soaked with melting snow.

Alice and Rosalie are leaning away as Emmett shakes his dripping hair towards them. They're  
enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else — only they look more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

Pretty. 

I throw my trash away and head to Bio with Mike. When we go through the door, there's a unison of groans. It's raining, and washing all the snow along with it. 

Mike keeps up a string of complaints on the way to building four. We enter the classroom, and my table is empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. 

I open my book and start to read until class starts. I hear very clearly that a chair moves. 

"Hello," says a quiet, musical voice.

I look up, stunned that he's speaking to me. He's sitting as far away from me as the desk allows, but his chair is angled towards me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled — even so, he looks like he just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His pretty face is friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes are careful.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continues. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week."

I look over him. He looks exactly the same, only that his skin is less pale and his dark circles are much less noticeable. Then I look behind me, making sure he's talking to me and not someone behind me. 

I point to myself. "You're talking to me?" 

He nods. "Yes." He smiles brightly. "Is that surprising?" 

"Yes. Because you looked like you wanted to kill me the other day." I deadpan. Does this dude suffer from mood swings or something? 

His expression falters for about a second. "Oh, well. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted that day. That wasn't my usual self." 

Now it's my turn to glare at him. He looks at the ceiling, waiting for response. I sigh. "Are you gonna stop acting weird?" 

He chuckles, but there's no humor behind it. "Yes." 

"Good." I turn back to the front of the classroom. If he thinks he's forgiven that easily, he's got another thing coming. 

Mr. Banner starts class. The slides in the box are out of order. Working as lab partners, (of for fucks sake) we have to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represent and label them accordingly. We aren't allowed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he'll be coming around to see who has it right.

"Get started," he commands.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward asks. I look up to see him smiling a beautiful crooked smile. 

Damn him for being this pretty. 

"Ok," I say. I've already done this lab, and I know what I'm looking for. It should be easy. I snap the first slide into place under the microscope and adjust it quickly to the 40X objective. I study the slide briefly.

"Prophase," I say confidently. 

"Do you mind if I look?" he asks as I begin to remove the slide. His hand catches mine, to stop me as he asked. His fingers are ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. I jerk my hand away. 

"I'm sorry," he mutters, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continues to reach for the  
microscope. I watch him as he examines the slide for an even shorter time than I did. 

"Prophase," he agrees, writing it down neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switches out the first slide for the second, then glances at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," he murmurs, writing it down as he spoke.

"May I?" I ask. 

He smirks and pushes the microscope to me.

I look through the eyepiece. I nod in agreement. 

"Slide three?" I hold out my hand. 

He hands it to me; it seems like he's being careful not to touch my skin again.

"Interphase." I pass him the microscope before he could ask for it. He takes a swift peek, and then  
writes it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. I  
didn't want to ruin the page with my hand writing.

We're finished before anyone else. I can see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group have their book open under the table. 

I tap my fingers on the table, looking at the other groups work with having nothing else to do. I finished my book before class started. Without thinking, I take another peek at Cullen. Suddenly, I identify the subtle difference in his face.

I vividly remember the flat black color of his eyes the last time he glared at me — the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, his eyes are a completely different color: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I don't understand how that could be, unless their contacts or something. Or maybe Forks is making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

Mr. Banner comes to our table, to see why we aren't working. He looks over our shoulders to  
glance at the completed lab, and then stares more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asks.

"Bella," Edward corrects automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looks at me now; his expression is skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asks.

I smile sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Banner nods. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yeah."

"Well," he says after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He mumbles something else as he walks away. After he leaves, I begin doodling on my notebook.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asks. I have the feeling that he's forcing himself to make small talk with me. I don't know why, since it's obvious that I don't want to. But paranoia swept over me. It's like he heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong or something. 

I shrug. "Not really. I don't like snow very much. Or the cold." 

He nods. "Why did you move here, then?" It isn't demanding, more like genuine curiosity. No has asked me that yet. 

I shrug again. "It's complicated." 

"I think I could keep up," he says. 

I look at him, contemplating whether or not I should tell him. But it's not that much of deep, dark secret. Lots of kids have divorced parents who have remarried.

"My mother got remarried," I say. 

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagrees, but he's suddenly sympathetic. Which I hate. I hate when people are being sympathetic towards me. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." My voice sounds void of any emotion. 

"And you don't like him," Edward surmises, his tone still kind.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, tries too much to act like my father but nice enough." 

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I can't imagine his interest, but he continues to stare, as if my boring life's story is somehow interesting. 

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smile. 

"Have I heard of him?" he asks, smiling in response.

"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot." I look to the front of the room. It's somehow embarrassing to say that out loud. 

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." He says it as an assumption again, not a question.

I turn to him and give him another dead stare. His eyes wonder to anywhere except my face. "No," I say finally. "I sent myself." 

His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," he admits, and he seems unnecessarily frustrated by the fact.

I sigh. Why am I even explaining this to him? "It's not something for you to understand. You just wanted to know and there you go." I go back to doodling in my notebook. 

"Mmh." I think that the conversation is over, until he opens his mouth again and I hear his velvety voice. 

"You put on a good show," he says slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I whip my head towards him. "Who the hell do you think you are assuming something like that about me?" I snarl. "All I came here to do is to spend some more time with my father. Not deal with overbearing  
dickheads like you." 

He looks taken aback, and it makes me want to fly my fist into his perfect nose even more. No one has ever made me more aggravated. 

Mr. Banner calls the class to order then. I dig my nails into my palm to remind me where I am and to control myself. I can't exactly lash out the way I always do. 

As soon as the bell rings, I collect my things and see Edward rush as swiftly and as gracefully out of the room as he did last Monday.

I stalk out the door, ignoring Mike calling me name.

Luckily, I made it through gym class without taking my anger out on someone. Unluckily, Mike caught me as I walked out the door. 

"Hey, Bella." Mike calls out. He falls into step with me. "Did I do something to you?" He looks hurt and it makes me feel a little regretful. 

"No, Mike, you didn't do anything." I inhale deeply. We walk out and the rain is just a mist. "Cullen got on my nerve today and I didn't want to take it out on you. I have a bad habit of doing that." 

He nods, understanding. "Oh, ok." A pause. "But he seemed friendly enough today?" 

"Yeah. And I wish that he wasn't." We get to the parking lot. "See ya tomorrow." I say as I open my car door. 

He smiles. "Yeah, see you tomorrow." 

I get in and unzip my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home. I look around me to make sure it's clear. 

That's when I notice a still, white figure. Cullen is leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. 

I swiftly look away and throw the car into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Camry in my haste. Luckily for the Toyota, I stomp on the brake in time. 

Jesus fucking Christ. I take a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pull out again, with greater success. I stare straight ahead as I pass the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I see him laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake up, but something was a little different this morning. 

It's the light. It's still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it's clearer somehow. I realize there's no fog veiling my window. 

I jump out of bed and to my shock, I was pleasantly surprised. 

A fine layer of snow covers the yard, dusting the top of my truck, and whitening the road. All the rain from yesterday has frozen solid — coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns. 

I take my phone and take a photo of the beautiful scenery and send it to Mari. She's always liked the photos I take, and has even said I should talks up photography. Too bad that's not something I've been interested in. 

Charlie has left for work before I get downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Charlie is like having my own place, and I find myself enjoying the aloneness instead of being lonely.

I eat a bowl of cereal, watching some YouTube video and scrolling through social media. Turns out Lauren is going to throw a party. I doubt I'd be invited. I don't think she likes me. Oh well. 

I drive slowly towards school, not wanting to get in an accident since I've never driven in ice or snow before. On the way there, I think about Mike and Eric, and how they're so eager to catch my attention, despite obviously having my own attention on Eli. If I'm being honest, I'm kind of used to this kind of attention. I wasn't exactly unpopular in Phoenix, nor was I popular. I've had my fair share of flings, along with boyfriends and girlfriends, but I kind of now want whatever attention on me to disappear. 

Mike's puppy dog behavior and Eric's apparent rivalry with him is kind of unsettling. 

My car seems to have no problem with the black ice that covering the roads. When I get out of my car at school, I see why I had so little trouble. Something silver catches my eye, and I walk to the back of the truck to examine my tires.

There are thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Dad had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck. 

I smile, standing in the back corner of the car. I'm not used to being taken care of, and it brings a strange wave of emotion. That's when I hear an odd sound.

It's a high-pitched screech, and it's fast and painfully loud. I look up, startled.

I see several things simultaneously. Nothing is moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. 

Instead, the adrenaline rush seems to make my brain work much faster, and I'm able to take in   
several things in clear detail at once.

Edward Cullen is standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stands out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But what's more important is the dark blue van that's skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It's going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I'm standing in between them.

I throw myself out of the way, and I catch myself with my arms before I cracked my head against the cold, icy pavement. But the van is still skidding towards me. It curls around the end of my car, spinning and sliding, and it's coming towards me. Again. 

But I'm stuck in between my car and a tan one. I can't move. I'm going to die. 

Suddenly, from my left side, and out of nowhere, two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me. The van shudders to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting perfectly into a deep dent in the side of the van's body.

A low oath leaves the person, and the voice is impossible to not recognize.

His hands move so fast that they blur. One is suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something is dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag doll's, until they hit the tire of the tan car. The groaning, metallic thud hurts my ears, and the van settles, glass popping, onto the asphalt— exactly where my legs had been.

It's absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming begins. In the abrupt uproar, I can hear more than one person shouting my name. But I could hear Edward's more clearly than all the yelling around me. 

Cullen's low, frantic voice in my ear. "Bella? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." My voice sounds strange. I try to sit up, and realize he's holding me against the side of his body in an iron grasp. 

"Be careful," he says as I struggle. His expression is serious, cold. "I think you hit your head pretty hard." 

That made me realize that he wasn't even next to me when the van hit. I narrow my eyes. "I didn't hit my head. I caught myself before I could." I pull myself away from him. "How did you get here so fast?" 

"I was standing right next to you, Bella." he says, his tone serious. 

"Bull-fucking-shit," I spit out, and his expression turns angry. 

He opens his mouth to say something but then they find us. A crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

"Don't move!" Someone instructs. 

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone else shouts. 

There's a flurry of activity around us. I try to get up, but Cullen's cold hand pushes my shoulder down.

"Just stay put for now." 

I shove him off, pissed that he's trying to tell me what happened when I clearly saw did actually happen. He shoves me down harder and I tumble onto my ass and onto the cold pavement. 

"What is you're problem?" I ask through gritted teeth. He's getting on my nerve and it seems like that's the only thing he's good at doing. "You aren't gonna change my mind. I saw you by your car, Cullen." 

His expression turns hard. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you." All around us is chaos. I can hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene. 

"Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way." His eyes boar into mine, as if he's trying to communicate something crucial.

No." I clench my jaw.

The gold in his eyes blaze. "Please, Bella."

"Why?" I demand. 

"Trust me," he pleads, his soft voice overwhelming.

I can hear sirens now. "Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"

"Fine," he snaps, abruptly infuriated.

"Fine," I repeat angrily.

It takes six EMTs and two teachers — Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp — to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his, and so did I, but the fucker lies and says that I hit my head and probably had a concussion. 

I glare at him. The EMT tries to put on a neck brace on me but I may have or may not threatened him. My expression tells him that I'm serious and he just lets me get on the stretcher. 

As they put me into the back of the ambulance, it looks like the entire school was there, watching soberly. Edward gets to ride in the front. It's maddening.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived before they can get me safely away. But I'm glad that my father is here. 

"Bella!" he yells in panic when he recognizes me on the stretcher.

"I'm completely fine, Dad," I sigh. "There's nothing wrong with me."

He turns to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tune him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images turning chaotically in my head. When they lift me away from the car, I see the deep dent in the tan car's bumper — a very distinct dent that fits the contours of Cullen's shoulders... as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame...

And then there's his family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that range from  
disapproval to fury but they don't hold any hint of concern for their brother's safety.

I try to think of a logical solution that can explain what I had just seen — a solution that excludes the conclusion that I'm insane.

Naturally, the ambulance gets a police escort to the county hospital. They unload me from the back and I feel ridiculous the whole time. What made it me angrier is that Cullen simply glides through the hospital doors under his own decision. I grind my teeth together and ball my hands into fists. 

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned  
curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. 

After she was done and left, there's another flurry of hospital personnel, and another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. It's Tyler Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looks a hundred times worse than I feel. But he's staring anxiously at me. 

"Bella, I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine, Tyler — you look awful, are you all right?" As we speak, nurses begin unwinding his soiled  
bandages, exposing a multitude of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.

He ignores me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong..." He  
winces as one nurse starts dabbing at his face.

"Don't worry about it; you missed me."

"How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone..."

"Umm... Cullen pulled me out of the way."

He looks confused. "Cullen? I didn't see him... wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

"I think so. He's here somewhere in the hospital, but they didn't make him use a stretcher."

I knew I'm not crazy. What happened? There's no way to explain away what I'd seen.

They wheel me away, to X-ray my head. I tell them there's nothing wrong (because Cullen lied), and I'm right.

Not even a concussion. I ask if I can leave now, but the nurse says I have to talk to a doctor first. So I'm trapped in the ER, waiting, being harassed by Tyler's constant apologies and promises to make it up to me.

I keep telling him that I'm alright, but he keeps apologizing. I finally snap at him to shut the fuck up. He's taken aback but he does. I can finally close my eyes and wait for the doctor to come. 

"Is she sleeping?" a musical voice asks. My eyes fly open.

Cullen's standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I glare at him. 

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry —" Tyler begins. 

Edward lifts a hand to stop him.

"No blood, no foul," he says, flashing his brilliant teeth. He moves to sit on the edge of Tyler's bed, facing me. He smirks again.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asks me.

"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go. Thanks you your lying." I complained, his easy-going expression falters. "How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," he answers. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Then a doctor walks around the corner, and my eyebrows shoot up. He's young, he's blond... and he's handsomer than any movie star I've ever seen. He's pale, though, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes. From Dad's description, this had to be Edward's father.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen says in a remarkably appealing voice. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I say. For the last time, I hope. 

He walks to the lightboard on the wall over my head, and turns it on.

"Your X-rays look good," he says. "Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard."

This is it. This is enough of Cullen's bullshit and his lying and the doctor notices my change in mood. 

I swing my legs off the bed and roughly stand up. I shove my rings, since they made me take them off for my X-Ray, back onto my fingers. "For the last time," I try to keep my voice level and not explode on the doctor. "I said I'm fine. And thanks to your son's lying, you just wasted money and your time. The time you could've used to see other patients, patients that actually need your help." 

Dr. Cullen and his son share a look. Yeah, the doctor is definitely on it. "Well, your father is in the waiting room — you can go with him now if you'd like." He smiles, but it's not a convincing one. 

"Can't I go back to school?" I ask him. 

"Maybe you should take it easy today." He pauses. "Actually, most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."

"Oh for fucks sake," I say under my breath. "Well, then. I'll get going." 

"Have a nice day, Miss Swan. Please come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight." Dr. Cullen says, then suddenly is occupied with the papers in front of him. Then he looks away, at Tyler, and walked to the next bed.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to stay with us just a little bit longer," he says to Tyler, and begins checking his cuts.

As soon as the doctor's back was turned, I move to Cullen's side.

"Can I talk to you, please? Edward." My voice is hard and wavers with anger. 

"Your father is waiting for you," he says through his teeth.

I glanced at Dr. Cullen and Tyler.

"I would like to speak with you alone, if you don't mind," I press. 

He glares, and then turns his back and strides down the long room. I nearly have to run to keep up. As soon as we turn the corner into a short hallway, he spins around to face me.

"What do you want?" he asks, sounding annoyed. His eyes are cold.

His unfriendliness angers me further. "You owe me an explanation," I remind him.

"I saved your life. I don't owe you anything."

"Last time I fucking checked, I didn't say anything about how you saved my from dying." 

His jaw flexes. "Bella, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about." His tone is cutting.

"You know I didn't hit my damn head, so stop making yourself delusional with your own lies and tell me the truth," I say angrily. 

He laughs coldly and mockingly. "Oh? I'm the one making myself delusional with my lies?" 

My temper flares and my heart starts beating faster. "I want to know the truth," I say. "I want to know why I'm lying for you."

"Well what do you think happened?" 

"You know damn well what actually happened but you're too scared to admit it." 

"Stop making yourself delusional, Isabella." he snaps. 

My anger finally bubbles over, and my body reacts on its own. My fist flies towards his face. His hand blurs and catches my wrist. It's just as frozen when I accidentally touched it in Bio. He then turns us so he can pin me against the wall. He does this in under a second. What the fuck? 

"Calm the hell down, Bella," He snarls — literally snarls. The hair on my arms stand up and my heart starts to race even faster. Ok, now I'm scared. 

I hear footsteps coming towards us and I turn my head to see who it is. It's Dr. Cullen, looking up from his papers, wearing an unreadable expression. 

Cullen let's go of my wrists, his eyes apologetic. I shove him away from me and he stumbles. "Fuck you. Go to hell, you bastard."

I walk past Dr. Cullen in an angry rush and make my way to the exit at the end of the hallway. I shove open the door and I see what seems to be the entire population in Forks, staring at me. 

Dad calls after me but I don't stop walking. I walk out of the glass doors of the exit, my father right behind me asking me what is wrong. I don't answer him. 

We drive in silence. I'm so wrapped up in my fuming that I'm barely aware of Dad being in the car with me. I know what happened in the hall way was my fault. I shouldn't have tried to punch him. But one thing I can't process is how quick he moved to the point that his hand blurred. Now he can't call me crazy. And his defensive behavior before that is confirmation enough of the bizarre things I had witnessed. 

I rubbed the wrist he pinned me with and look at it. It's red with his hand print. I hid it with my sleeve, hoping it'll disappear by tonight. 

When we get to the house, Charlie finally speaks. 

"Um... you'll need to call Renée." He hangs his head, guilty.

I'm appalled. "You told Mom!"

"Sorry." 

I groan in frustration. I roughly open the door and don't bother closing it. I've learned that it'll anger or annoy the other person in the car and Dad proves that by shouting at me to close it. 

Mom is in hysterics when I called her, of course. I have to tell her I feel fine at least thirty times before she would calm down. She begs me to come home — forgetting the fact that home was empty at the moment. I tell her that this accident could've happened in Phoenix just as it happened here. 

Right after I ended the call with Mom, Mari calls and had to go through the same things with her, except she said she'd come her to Forks. I would actually enjoy having my friend here, even for a couple of days. We talk for a little longer then she had to go. 

I decide I might as well go to bed early tonight. Charlie continues to watch me anxiously, and it's getting on my nerves. I didn't hit my damn head. Or... did I? That might explain for what happened at the accident but I'm sure of what I saw, and the doctors told me that there's nothing wrong with me. 

I rub my temples, I'm starting to get a headache. I stop on my way to grab three Tylenol from the bathroom for it and head to bed. They help, and I easily drift off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

I wake up, headache thankfully gone. Dad is gone by the time I go down stairs and make me breakfast. 

The day was... not bad. I was the center of topic (again) throughout the entire day. People I don't even know are came up to me and asked me if I was okay and every single time I said I was fine or asked me for my first-hand account of what had happened. No one was surrounding Cullen and asking him all this. Nor, did they seem concerned about him, though I explained over and over that he was the hero — how he had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed, too. I tried to be convincing. Jessica, Mike, Eric, and everyone else always commented that they hadn't even seen him there till the van was pulled away.

I also have more unwanted attention on me, and this time from Tyler Crowley. He followed me the entire day, hellbent on making it up to me but in actuality making my day Hell. He even sat at our now-crowded lunch table. Mike and Eric were even less friendly toward him than they were to each other. But I ignored them, and only payed attention the girls. 

Unfortunately, the entire week was the same but I too, was hellbent on ignoring everything and everyone, especially Cullen. He always sat as far away from me as the table allowed. He seemed totally unaware of my presence and he never glanced my way anymore. Which I was glad for that. 

The weeks soon passed without another accident or incident. Really, it was. My friendships were going great, my bond with my father was becoming stronger with continuous movie nights and late night trips to the local diner. I went on a shopping trip with the girls and dyed my hair blue this time. And what was even better, Cullen continued to completely ignore my existence. 

Mike was also pleased by the obvious coolness between me and my lab partner. I could see he'd  
been worried that Edward's daring rescue might have impressed me, and he was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. He grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before. It's obvious that he knew he couldn't have a relationship with me, so he tried to be my one and only best friend here in Forks. It was quite comical, if I'm being honest. 

Biology class started, ignoring Edward as completely as he ignored us.

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed he'd never gotten to stage his snowball fight, but pleased that the beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, though, so I don't know how they'll have their beach trip. I'll be cozy at home though. 

Jessica made me aware of another event looming on the horizon. She called the first Tuesday of March to ask my permission to invite Mike to the girls' choice spring dance in two weeks.

"Are you sure you don't mind... you weren't planning to ask him?" she persisted when I told her I didn't mind. 

"No, really. I don't have anyone to ask really, anyway." 

"Then come solo then. It will be really fun." Her attempt to convince me was halfhearted. I suspected that Jessica enjoyed my inexplicable popularity more than my actual company.

"You have fun with Mike," I encouraged.

The next day, I'm surprised that Jessica isn't her usual gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She's silent as she walks by my side between classes, and I'm afraid to ask her why. If Mike had turned her down, I'm the last person she would want to tell.

My fears worsen during lunch when Jessica sits as far from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike is unusually quiet.

Mike is still quiet as he walks me to class, the uncomfortable look on his face is a very a bad sign. But he doesn't poke at the subject until I'm in my seat and he's perched on my desk. 

"So," Mike says, looking at the floor, "Jessica asked me to the spring dance."

"That's great." I make my voice bright and enthusiastic. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica."

"Well..." He struggles as he examines my smile, clearly not happy with my response. "I told her I had to think about it."

"Now why in the hell did you do that?" I ask, though I'm relieved he didn't give her an absolute no.

His face is bright red as he looks down again. I raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. 

"I was wondering if... well, if you might be planning to ask me."

I see from the corner of my eye, Cullen's head tilt reflexively in my direction.

I sigh. "Mike, you should tell her yes," I say. 

"Did you already ask someone?" His eyes flicker to Cullen. 

"No," I assure him. "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why not?" Mike demands. 

"I don't know Mike. If I'm being honest, dances aren't my thing." 

He nods. "Oh, ok." 

"So you shouldn't make Jess wait any longer. It's kinda rude."

"Yeah, you're right," he mumbles. He goes back to his seat, dejected. 

I run my temples. Jesus Christ with these boys. I sigh and open my eyes when Mr. Banner begins to talk. And Edward Cullen is staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct in his black eyes.

I stare back, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with intensity into my eyes. For some reason, there's no question of me looking away.

"Mr. Cullen?" the teacher calls, seeking the answer to a question that I didn't hear. 

"The Krebs Cycle," Edward answers, seeming reluctant as he turns to look at Mr. Banner.

I look down at my book, trying to find my place on the page. That was strange. 

When the bell rings, I turn my back to him to gather my things, expecting him to leave immediately as usual.

"Bella?" His voice rings out towards me in this almost empty room. 

I turn slowly and unwillingly. My expression is wary when I turn to him; his expression is unreadable.

He doesn't say anything.

"What? Are you speaking to me again?" I finally ask, my voice harsh. 

His lips twitched. I don't know if he wants to frown or smile. "No, not really," he admits. 

I close my eyes and inhale slowly through my nose, aware that I was grinding my teeth. He waits. "What the fuck do you want, Cullen." I make my tone harsher. 

"I'm sorry." He sounds sincere. "I'm sorry for the way I acted in the hospital. I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really." His face is very serious.

"I don't know what you mean," I say, my voice guarded.

"It's better if we're not friends," he explains. "Trust me."

My eyes narrow. "Now, Cullen, when the hell did I ever say I want to be your friend?" 

He chuckles humorously this time. 

I tap my hand against the tabletop. "You know, it's too bad that you didn't figure this out earlier." I pause. "It could've saved you all this regret." 

"Regret?" The word and my tone, obviously catches him off guard. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

He looks astonished. He stares at me in disbelief.

When he finally speaks, he almost sounds mad. "You think I regret saving your life?"

"I know you do," I snap.

"You don't know anything." He's definitely mad.

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "I don't know anything?" 

He visibly stiffens and his fists ball up, the same way he did in my first Biology class. Yeah, he definitely wants to punch me now and I wonder if I'm fast enough to dodge him. I think back to the hospital hallway. Yep. There's no way I'd be able to. 

I turn my head sharply away from him, clenching my jaw against all the other wild accusations I want to throw at him. I sweep dramatically out the door and make my way to gym. We moved onto to basketball. I'm kind of decent. And by kind of, I mean horrible and my team quickly learned to not pass me the ball. 

I walk over to my car. It's a new one unfortunately, since the Ford's left headlight was completely demolished. My father managed to find another one, cheap enough that I bought with his help. This one's just fine, although I do miss my Ford. Tyler's parents had to sell their van for parts. 

I round the corner and see someone leaning against my car. It's Eric who is waiting for me. 

"Hey Eric," I call out as I approach him. 

Hi, Bella."

"What do you want?" I say as I was unlocking the door. My patience is wearing thin and I'm not paying attention to the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words take me by surprise.

"Uh, I was just wondering... if you would go to the spring dance with me?" His voice breaks on the last  
word.

"I thought it was girls' choice," I say. 

"Well, yeah," he admits, shamefaced.

"I'm not going to the dance, Eric. Sorry." 

"Oh," he says. "Well, maybe next time."

My lips press into a thin line. "No, Eric. No next time." 

He looks like I just told him his dog just died and I don't even know if he has one. He just nods. "Oh- oh okay." He smiles sadly, then slouches off, back toward the school. I hear a low chuckle.

Cullen is walking past the front of my car, looking straight forward, his lips pressed together. I  
yank the door open and jump inside, slamming it loudly behind me. Cullen is already in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off. He stops there — to wait for his family; I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria. I'm tempted to yell at the fucking idiot. I look in my rearview mirror. A line is beginning to form.

Tyler Crowley is directly behind me in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I didn't bother acknowledging him, I'm too aggravated too. 

While I sit there, looking everywhere but at the car in front of me, I hear a knock on my passenger side window. I look over; it's Tyler. I glance back in my rearview mirror, confused. His car is still running, the door left open. I press the button down on my door to open the window. 

"I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm stuck behind Cullen." I'm annoyed. Obviously the holdup isn't my fault.

"Oh, I know — I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here." He grins.

This could not be fucking happening.

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" he continues.

"No, Tyler, I will not ask you the spring dance. I'm not going to ask anyone to the spring dance. " My voice sounds sharp, but I don't care. 

"Yeah, Mike said that," he admits.

"Then why the fu—"

He shrugs. "I was hoping you were just letting him down easy."

I sigh and wrap my hand around the steering wheel, stopping myself from throwing something at him. 

"Sorry, Tyler," I say, sounding the least bit of sorry. "I'm not going." 

"That's cool. We still have prom."

Before I can respond, he'a already walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face and my urge to hit something. I look forward to see Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper are all sliding into the Volvo. In his rearview mirror, Cullen's eyes are on me. He's unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if he'd heard every word Tyler had said. Then Cullen is speeding away.

I drive home slowly, muttering to myself the entire time. 

When I get home, I decide to make chicken enchiladas for dinner. It's a long process, and it'a going to keep me busy. While I'm simmering the onions and chilies, my phone rings. 

I take it out of my back pocket. It's Jessica. I balance it in between my shoulder and ear. "Hey, Jess!" 

"Bella you'd never believe what just happened." She sounds jubilant. 

"What?" I stir the onions. 

"Mike said yes to me!" She squeals on the other end and I celebrate with her. I'm actually happy for her. She seems to really like Mike, and I hope the feeling are mutual between them. 

"Hey... you know," I say with casual innocence. "Maybe Angela can ask Eric to the dance? And Lauren can ask Tyler? Not even as a date, just as friends if they don't have anyone to take." 

"That actually sounds amazing! I'll text them tonight. Are you sure aren't going?" She asks. 

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm thinking of going to Seattle that Saturday anyway. It's better than sitting in my house all day," I say right on the spot, which is all of sudden is a great time to go. 

"True." A pause. "Well, I have to go. See you tomorrow." 

"See you." I hang up, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. 

Charlie seems suspicious when he comes home and smells the green peppers. I can't blame him thought. The closest edible Mexican food is probably in southern California. But he's a cop, even if just a small-town cop, so he's brave enough to take the first bite. He seems to like it. It's quite fun to watch as he slowly begins to trust me in the kitchen.

"Dad?" I ask when he's almost done. 

"Yes, Bella?" 

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday... if that's  
okay?" I don't want to ask permission but I feel rude, so I tack that on at the end.

"Why?" He sounds surprised, as if he's unable to imagine something that Forks couldn't offer.

"Well, I wanted to get few books. There are barely any books in the library and maybe look at some  
clothes." I have a little bit of money left over and it should be enough for the trip. I have to remember to start looking for a job. The last thing I want is to start asking dad for money. 

"Are you going all by yourself?" he asks, and I can't tell if he's suspicious I have a secret boyfriend or just worried about me.

"Yes."

"Seattle is a big city, you could get lost," he frets.

"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle and a GPS exists for a reason."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I try to be crafty as I hide my horror.

"That's all right, Dad, I'll probably just be in dressing rooms all day." I shrug. "It's going to be very boring."

"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any period of time immediately puts him off.

"Thanks." I smile at him.

"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school dances are.

"No. I don't want to go." 

He scrunches his eyebrows. "What, why?" 

I shrug again. "I don't know. I just don't want to go. I have prom, anyway." 

"Oh, well okay." Is all he says, and that's where he leave it at. 

The next morning, I pull into the parking lot. I deliberately parked as far as possible from the  
silver Volvo. I don't want to see him. 

I accidentally fumble with my keys as I get out of the car and they fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashes out and grabs it before I could. I jerk upright. Edward Cullen is right next to me, leaning casually against my car.

"How the hell do you do that?" I ask in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" He holds my key out as he speaks. As I reach for it, he drops it into my palm.

"Appear out of thin air."

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice is as quiet as usual — velvet,  
muted.

I scoff and scowl at his perfect face. His eyes are light today, a deep, golden honey color. "Am I unobservant or do you simply reveal to damn much." I glare at him. "And that you're hellbent on making me seem like the crazy one." 

His easy-going expression falters for a second and anger flashes in his tawny eyes. His lips press into a hard line, all signs of humor gone. "Bella, you are utterly absurd," he says, his low voice cold.

My fist ball-up again, and I again have the urge to hit something, preferably him but that's not possible. I turn on my heels and walk away. 

"Wait," he calls after me. I keep walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he's next to me, gracefully and easily keeping pace. 

The thought I've been keeping at bay slips back into my mind. He's obviously not human, or if he is, he's not like the rest of us. He's stronger and faster than any other human, fast and strong enough to stop a van from crushing me. 

My heart starts to beat faster, and I don't know if it's from fear or the anger I'm feeling. I stuff my shaking hands in my jacket pockets. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude," he says as we walk. I ignore him. "I'm not saying it isn't true," he continues, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me the alone?" I grumble.

"I want to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckles. He seems to recover his good humor. 

"Are you bipolar or something?" I ask. He's starting to give me a headache. 

"You're doing it again."

I sigh. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?" 

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday — you know, the day of the spring dance —"

"Are you trying to be fucking funny?" I interrupt him, wheeling towards him. My face gets drenched as I look up at his expression.

His eyes are wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bite my lip and clasp my hands together, so I won't do anything rash, like try to punch him again. 

"I was wondering why you aren't going to dance." 

I narrow my eyes. "I don't see why that's any of your business." 

"I was wondering. Most students want to go." 

"Are you going?" I raise an eyebrow at him. 

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. "That's exactly what I thought." I turn on my heel and walk towards my building. He easily walks beside me. 

"I'm sorry. I actually wanted to ask you something but, now that I think about it, it's not a good time." I can tell he's being sincere, but I'm too pissed to care. 

"Stop wasting my god damn time, Cullen," I hiss. 

"I'll see you in class?" I can hear his smile and don't restrain myself from flipping him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello !! Just came to say that I’ll now be updating this bi-weekly !! Thank you for reading


	5. Chapter 5

I make way to English class in an angry toll. Wasting my god damn time just for the sake of talking to me. I open the door to my class. I oughta- 

"Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan," Mr. Mason says to me as I enter. I didn't even realize class started. I stop myself from rolling my eyes and ignore him, taking my frustration out on my books and slam them on my desk. Johnny Waters scoots his desk away from me. 

The rest of the morning passes by in a blur. Mike walks beside me as usual, talking excitedly about the weather report for this weekend. The rain is supposed to take a minor break, so maybe his beach trip would be possible. It was hard; rain or no rain, it would still only be in the high forties, if they were lucky. He once again tries to convince me to come along but I tell him what I told him when he first asked me: beaches should be warm and hot and with sand. 

I arrive at lunch with Jessica as she babbles on about her dance plans. Lauren and Angela had asked the other boys and decided that they'll all go together. I don't miss the nasty look Lauren gives me out of no where. The bitch is getting on my nerve, especially since I haven't done anything to her. I'll have to do something about her. 

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica whispers at me. "I wonder why he's sitting alone today." 

"Who is staring at me?" I don't whisper, and Jess throws me a look. 

I follow her gaze to see Edward, smiling crookedly, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he usually sat. Once he catches my eye, he raises one hand and motioned with his index finger for me to join him. As I stare in disbelief, he winks. 

"Does he mean you?" Jessica asks with insulting astonishment in her voice but I ignore her. 

"I think so." It comes out more of a question than an answer. 

"Well, go see what he wants." 

I give her a look this time. "No. Why would I go sit with him?" 

"How do you know he wants you to sit with him?" She challenges. 

I open my mouth, and then realize that she's right. Reluctantly, I get up, and I can feel their stares as I go over to Cullen. 

When I reach his table, I stand behind the chair across from him. 

"Why won't you sit with me today," he asks, smiling. 

I make a face. "No. Why the hell would I sit with you?" I ask, confused. I've been nothing but a bitch to him and he's been nothing but an asshole to me. I look over his shoulder, and his siblings are all looking at us. Rosalie is glaring at me. 

Well, god damn, if looks can kill. 

He sighs, clearly frustrated. "Bella, for once, can you stop being overly difficult and sit with me? I'll stop being an asshole and the other strings of insults you've called me." 

I sigh, and in defeat, I sit down. Maybe he isn't weird. Maybe he's a cool guy, I tell myself. Maybe I need to stop being so hostile towards him too. I look at him cautiously and cross my leg over the other. "Well... this is different. Why the sudden change in behavior?" I ask. 

"Well..." He pauses, and then the rest of the words follow in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

I wait for him to say something that makes sense to me. The seconds tick by.

"You know I have no idea what you're trying to say, right?" I eventually point out.

"I know." He smiles again, and then he changes the subject. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

"They'll survive." I could feel their stares boring into my back and be smiles again. 

"What brought all this on?" I ask again. I want a damn answer. 

"I told you — I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He's still smiling, but his ocher eyes are serious.

"Giving up?" I repeat in confusion.

"Yes. Giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where  
they may." His smile fades as he explains, and a hard edge creeps into his voice.

I sigh. "You lost me again." 

A breathtaking crooked smile reappears. 

"I always say too much when I'm talking to you — that's one of the problems."

"Don't worry. I don't understand any of it," I say wryly. 

"I'm counting on that."

"So, in plain English." I place my elbows on the table and lean against my hand. "Are we friends now?"

"Friends..." he muses, dubious. 

I wait, tapping my fingers against the table. 

"Friends," he says finally. "But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real.

"You say that a lot," I note. I cross my arms against my chest. "If you don't want me to be your friend, then why am I sitting with you?" 

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times as he thinks of an answer. He just stared at me in the end. "You have a good point." 

I smile smugly. "I always do." He chuckles. 

I tap my hands against the table. He notices that I don't have any food. "Are you not going to eat?" 

"No. Not hungry." Which is true. I'll just grab fast food on the way home.

"What are you thinking?" he asks then.

I go with the truth. "I'm trying to figure out what you are."

His jaw tightens, but he keeps his smile in place with effort.

"Are you having any luck with that?" he asks in an offhand tone.

"Not too much," I admit. "You're faster than any human I've met, and also stronger." I look at him with calculating eyes. 

His hand that's placed on the table balls up into a fist, then he chuckles dryly. "What are your theories?"

I laugh, embarrassed. I've been deciding during the last month between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker. There's no way I'm going to own up to that.

"Won't you tell me?" he asks, tilting his head to one side with a shockingly tempting smile.

I shake my head. "It's too embarrassing."

"That's really frustrating, you know," he complains.

"No," I disagree quickly, my eyes narrowing, "I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all —  
just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remarks and it leaves you thinking all day what they could possibly mean. Now, why would that be frustrating?" 

He grimaces.

"Or better," I continue, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, "say that person also did a bunch of strange things — from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like you don't exist the next day and he never explained any of that, either, even after he fucking promised. That would also be very non-frustrating."

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"Yes I fucking do. Problem?"

We stare at each other, unsmiling.

He glances over my shoulder, then unexpectedly, he snickers. 

"What now?" I ask coldly. He's getting on my nerves. Again. 

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you. He's debating whether or not to come  
break up our fight." He snickers again.

"I don't know who the hell you're talking about. But I'm sure you're wrong, anyway."

"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."

"Except me, of course."

"Yes. Except for you." His mood shifts suddenly; his eyes turned brooding. "I wonder why that is."

I have to look away from the intensity of his stare. 

"So, you aren't going to tell me one of you're theories?" 

I roll my eyes. "Why do you want to know. I'm sure I'm wrong anyway." 

"I'm sure you are, but I want to here them either way." 

I sigh. "Fine." It won't hurt me if I tell him because I'm not going to lie, I'm curious about him and that's very, very bad and dangerous. "Bitten by a radioactive spider?" 

"That's not very creative," he scoffs. 

I shrug. "That's all I got." 

"You're not even close," he teases. 

"No spiders?" 

"Nope." 

"No radioactivity?"

"None."

"Damn," I sigh. 

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me, either," he chuckles. 

"You weren't a solider either who go experimented on?" 

He full on laughs this time. "I would say that one's creative, but it isn't." 

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Whatever." I look straight into his eyes. "I'll figure it out eventually." 

"I wish you wouldn't try." He's serious again. 

"Well, this is your fault after all," I say bluntly. And it's true. None of this would've happened if he meddled with fate and I wouldn't be sitting here in front of him, trying to figure out what he is. 

He leans back, his expression complex. "I suppose that's true." We stare at each other in silence. The silence lasted until I notice that the cafeteria is almost empty.

"Shit. We're going to be late." I get up from my seat. 

"I'm not going to class today," he says. 

"Why?" 

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." He smiles at me, but his eyes look troubled. 

"Well okay then." I walk out of the cafeteria as the last bell rings. 

I'm lucky; Mr. Banner isn't in the room yet. I sit down in my chair, aware that Mike and Angela are staring at me. Mike looks resentful; Angela looks surprised, and slightly awed. I'm about to ask them what was wrong but Mr.Banner comes in, calling class to order. He's juggling a few small cardboard  
boxes in his arms. He puts them down on Mike's table, telling him to start passing them around the class.

"Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box," he says as he gets out a pair of rubber  
gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and puts them on. "The first should be an indicator card," he goes on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. "The second is a four-pronged applicator —" he holds up something that looks like a nearly toothless hair pick "— and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He holds up a small piece of blue plastic and splits it open. The barb was invisible from this distance. 

"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't start until I get to  
you." He begins at Mike's table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares.

"Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet..." He grabs Mike's hand and jabbed  
the spike into the tip of Mike's middle finger. 

"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." He demonstrates, squeezing Mike's finger till the  
blood flowed. I lean against my hand, bored. 

"And then apply it to the card," he finishes, holding up the dripping red card for us to see.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type." He sounds proud of himself. Yeah, he won't be when someone faints from the sight of the blood. "Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission — I have slips at my desk."

He continues through the room with his water drops. I raise my hand and talk before he calls on me. "Do I have to do this? I already know my blood type." 

He purses his lips. I doubt he'd make me prick my finger for the sake it. "No, you don't have to." He thinks for a moment. "Help me with the water drops, won't you?" 

"Yeah, sure." I get up from my seat and start to help him. When I get to Lee Stephens, he looks pale, turning green. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Lee, are you okay?" 

He mumbles something that I can't make out. Mr. Banner comes over to us. "Are you feeling faint?" 

He simply nods. Banner turns to me. "Do you think you can bring him to the nurses office?" 

"Yeah, I can." Lee doesn't look too heavy. He lanky, and skinny and almost my height. 

"Can you walk?" I ask.

"Yes," he whispers. He gets up and I wrap his arms around his shoulder, letting him use me as support. 

I hear Mike asking to come with me in case if I need any help with Lee. I don't hear Banner's answer, though. We slowly make it across campus and I hear my name being called out. 

I turn the best I can and it's Mike. Oh, for fucks sake.   
He jogs up to me. "I came to help you." 

"I don't need your damn help, Mike. I'm more than capable of doing this." I say between my teeth. 

"Put me down on the side walk," Lee mumbles and I do what he says. I don't want him throwing up all over me. He slumps onto the sidewalk, his check pressed up against the pavement. 

"Wow you're green, Lee," I say nervously. Please don't let him throw up before I get him to the nurse. 

Mike looks stressed, and it's making me stressed. I turn to him. "Why didn't you stay in the classroom?" 

"I wanted to help you." 

"Did it look like I need any help?" I mid-shout. Lee groans. "Sorry, Lee." 

"Well, it looks like now you do," Mike says smugly. When the hell did he become this irritating? I ignore him, and squat down to Lee. "Come one, Lee. We need to get you to the nurse." 

"No. Leave me hear." It's barely intelligible. 

"Bella!" A voice says from a distance. Oh god no. Please let me be imagining that voice. 

Edward slowly approached us three. "What's going on? Are you okay?" 

I point to myself. "Me? I'm fine. But Lee?" I look down at him. "Not so good." 

Edward reaches us, then looks at Mike. "We have it from here. You can go back to class." 

Mike looks angry now. "Mr. Banner said I have to help them." But Edward is already gently picking up Lee and I wrap one of his arms around my shoulders. Both of us ignore Mike's shouting complaints and we make our way to the nurse. 

"We're almost there Lee," I say. 

We enter the front office and Mrs. Cope glances up. "Oh my," she gasps. 

We stride past the desk and into the nurses office. The grandmotherly nurse looks up from her novel, astonished. We place Lee on the brown vinyl mattress on one cot. 

"He fainted in Bio," I say. "We're blood typing." Ma and Edward lean against the other side of the small room. 

The nurse nodded sagely. "There's always one." 

"I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear," she says to Lee, and then bustles out of the room. When she comes back she turns to us. "You guys can go back to class now." 

I'm about to respond okay when Edward speaks up. "We're supposed to stay here with him." He says this with confidence. Even though she purses her lips, the nurse doesn't argue further.

"Thanks you guys," Lee moans out. 

"No problem," I say in return. The the door opens, and Mike staggers in with a sallow-looking Stacy Evens in. 

"Oh no," Edward mutters. "Go out to the office, Bella."

I look up at him, bewildered.

"Trust me — go." He says this with seriousness. 

I spin and catch the door before it closes, darting out of the room. I can feel Edward right behind me.

"You actually listened to me." He's stunned.

"You looked serious." I shrug. "I joke around a lot and I'm very stubborn but I know when to listen to others." 

Mike comes through the door then, glancing from me to Edward. The look he gives him confirmes   
what he'd said about loathing. He looks back at me, his eyes glum.

"So..." he starts. "Are you going this weekend? To the beach?" While he speaks, he flashes another  
glare towards Edward, who's standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a sculpture, staring off into space.

I tried to sound as friendly as possible. "No. If rather stay home if I'm being honest." 

"Well, if you change your mind, we're meeting at my dad's store, at ten." His eyes flicker to Edward again, wondering if he's giving out too much information. His body language makes it clear that it isn't an open invitation.

"I'll keep that in mind." I take my phone out of my pocket. "We have to go back to class now." 

Me and Mike start walking out of the office when I realize that Edward isn't behind us. I turn back to him. "Are you not coming?" 

He smiles. "No. Still ditching." 

"Well, alright then." I turn back to Mike who is waiting for me outside the door without another glance at Edward. We make it back to Bio and by that time, class was just about to end. 

I head towards gym with Mike, and that class seems to pass by quickly. I make it home after class and get a start on my homework. I decide to order in pizza for dinner. I hope dad won't mind. 

As I'm on the third act of Macbeth, my mind starts to wonder if I really want to stay home on Saturday. I haven't gone out in a while. 

I reach for my phone that's charging on my night stand when it rings. I check the call ID and it's Jessica. 

"Hello," I say when I pick up. 

"Hey." 

"What's up?" 

"Oh, um..." She pauses. "Are you going to the beach trip on Saturday? I know you said no but I just want to make sure." 

"Oh about that." I twirl a strand of my hair around my finger. "I'm actually thinking about going. It's better than being stuck in my house and I haven't gone out for awhile." 

"Oh. That's great!" She says cheerfully, but it sounds so fake that I roll my eyes. "So... what did Edward Cullen want yesterday?" Jessica asks. Ah. So that's what she wanted to find out. 

I roll my eyes again. "I don't know," I answer. "He never really got to the point."

"You looked kind of mad," she fishes. 

"Did I?" I make my voice sound confused. I'm not going to give her any details, no matter how little there are. 

"You know, I've never seen him sit with anyone but his family before. That was weird."

"Weird," I agree. 

"Oh, ok." She seems annoyed. I guess she's hoping to hear something that would make a good story for her to pass on. 

"Yeah, well that's all. See you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." She hangs up. I sigh, not sure how to feel about what just happened, so I do what I do best: I ignore it and text Mike. 

Me: _hey mike. i changed my mind i'm going on the beach trip._

He answers immediately. 

Mike: _Really? That's great. I'll talk more about it at lunch with the others_

Me: _sounds great_

I put my phone back on the night stand and continue to read but I barely concentrate, because somehow, I start about thinking Edward Cullen and the mystery surrounding him.


End file.
